Sensory Overload
by Deity-of-Words
Summary: Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul.
1. Sight

**- Sight - **

Stark horror filled the blue optics of the Autobot leader as he scanned the carnage surrounding him. There had been another attack by the Decepticons, but Optimus and his Autobots had arrived too late to prevent the wanton destruction. This should not have happened to the humans - it was not their battle, not their war. Optimus believed he should have known Megatron was planning an attack. After all, the Decepticons had nothing better to do with their time: none of them had any desire to assist the humans or leave them in peace.

No, they simply murdered senselessly and made surviving as difficult as possible. Optimus could not help but believe that each Decepticon was an evil, sparkless abomination. They deserved nothing more than to spend an eternity rotting in the Pit. And yet, if any of those abomination were to defect to the Autobots, the Prime would give them the benefit of the doubt. And that was likely to be the mech's undoing.

Optimus glanced at his surroundings once more, taking in the sight of the bodies, the blood, and the fire, all around him. The human's had not seen the attack coming, they had been unable to mount any kind of defense. Many of them were missing limbs. Others had been charred by the scorching flames. Some were covered with too much blood for their injuries to been seen.

But of the faces Optimus could see, each expression was the same: a mask of terror and pain. Their eyes were open wide, pleading for mercy and begging to be saved. Their mouths hung agape, halfway through a scream and a prayer for a miracle. But there had been no one to save them. No divine intervention, no miracle.

Optimus would never be able to erase the sight of them from his processors.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **I've been working on this for a little while now. It was a challenge I found while lurking at the Review Lounge, and it seemed to fun to pass up. So this is the first in Optimus' series of senses: Sight. Stay tuned for the rest. And I hope you enjoy._

__**Disclaimer:** 'Transformers' and all related media, merchandise and trademarks do not belong to me. All canon characters belong to their respective companies and I am not affiliated with them in any way, shape or form.__


	2. Sound

- **Hearing -**

Some days he called them night-terrors. Other days they were simply bad dreams. In reality it was memories that haunted the Prime's resting hours. As the leader of the Autobot faction his subordinates expected him to remain strong in the face of adversity. They expected him to make the difficult decisions and never falter or second guess himself.

For the most part their expectations were met and Optimus Prime was the mech they imagined him to be. But it was only a matter of time before being that mech took it's toll. Living with secrets, energon on his hands, was no way to live. And when things did begin to take a toll, it was in the form of nightmares: taunting sounds, voices, echoing in his audios. Images of blood and betrayal flashing through his processors.

It started with a chorus of flames licking at the remains of a battlefield. Then began the screams, bloodcurdling and spark breaking. Next was the crying, his own, the humans, he couldn't tell who cried anymore. It ended with the evil, harrowing laughter of the Decepticon leader and the cheering of his Decepticons.

It was always the same, and each time it left the Prime distraught and shaken. Each bad dream, each sound, and each image, was nothing more than a grim reminder of a time he had failed. The humans and his Autobots, he failed them both more times than he cared to admit.

And each memory, each reminder, left his sight blurred with tears.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Here is part two: Hearing, or sound as someone told me it should have been. This challenge has been very fun so far and I've really enjoyed writing out these drabbles even if they aren't very long._

__**Disclaimer:** 'Transformers' and all related media, merchandise and trademarks do not belong to me. All canon characters belong to their respective companies and I am not affiliated with them in any way, shape or form.__


	3. Taste

**- Taste -**

The thought was enough to bring bile to his mouth. It was enough to make the Prime want to purge his tank in disgust. His femme, his love, his _bondmate_, falling into the arms of another mech was something Optimus believed to be unthinkable. But she had. And it had not been any mech. It had been the Decepticon leader she found solace with.

Optimus could not comprehend why Elita would lay with that sparkless being. What reason could there be for the femme to violate the sanctity of their bond? Elita was a purity. A gift from Primus himself that Optimus cherished with each breath he drew. He had given himself to her completely. Had done all she asked. Given her all she desired.

The Prime doubled over in the hall, a hand cupped over his mouth as though he could prevent the nauseousness escaping him. Even now he could taste the femme upon his tongue: sweet, pure, innocent. He should have been the only one to taste her. To touch her. To feel her. Of all the sins Megatron had committed, of all the he had done to the Prime, this, the thieving of his bondmate, was the worst. It was the most unforgivable.

On his knees, Optimus could not hold back. In the mists of cursing and crying, he purged his tank as thoughts of his _former_ bondmate lingered in his processors.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **So here is part three: Taste. It's been interesting for me writing these drabbles, though I don't think this one is focusing as heavily on the sense as the previous chapters have with their respective sense. None the less, I hope you enjoy.  
><em>

__**Disclaimer:** 'Transformers' and all related media, merchandise and trademarks do not belong to me. All canon characters belong to their respective companies and I am not affiliated with them in any way, shape or form.__


	4. Smell

**- Smell -**

The combined scent of coppery blood and acidic energon was more than he could stomach. It was more nauseating than the human cadavers and the Cybertronian husks that surrounded him. Although it was difficult, the Prime could handle the accusing stares of the deceased. But it was the smell, that lingering odor of death and decay, violence and brutality, that cut him deeper than any injury ever could.

Optimus could close his optics to the sights. He could remove the memories from his processors. But the smell would forever remain, clinging to his vents, assaulting him without warning and without remorse. It would not matter how often he bathed, or how hard he scrubbed. The stains would fade, the injuries would heal, the deceased would be forgotten, but nothing would ever rid him of the scent of blood and energon.

Stepping over the shell of one of his Autobots, Optimus caught the familiar aroma of sunlight dancing on leaves, mud caked onto metal. He held onto it for dear life. He refused to vent again lest that smell elude him and be replaced by something fouler.

The Prime broke into a run, tripping over the dead, shaking the earth with each step. He ran wildly, without direction, until blinding sunlight bombarded his optics. Only when he was miles from that cave, from the carnage, from the dead, from the smell, did he release the breath he held.

And in the safety of the open, Optimus vented deeply, evenly. Drawing in the scent of rainclouds and grass, savouring the delicious scent until the day he would encounter a more sinister odor.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **And now we have come to Smell. I'm not entirely sure if I like this chapter or not, I am proud of it, but I think I could have done something more with it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy reading it, and I hope you're looking forward to the final sense.  
><em>

__**Disclaimer:** 'Transformers' and all related media, merchandise and trademarks do not belong to me. All canon characters belong to their respective companies and I am not affiliated with them in any way, shape or form.__


	5. Touch

**- Touch -**

He could not vent, could barely see through the haze of moisture leaking from his optics. This couldn't be happening to them. She couldn't be dying. The Prime stared down at Elita, the femme he loved, his gift from Primus, and only fear was evident upon his faceplates. The ugly wound marring her chassis was horrible. Worse, it was fatal. As much as he didn't want to believe it, Optimus knew it to be true. He could _feel_ her fading.

His hands glided over her frame frantically, feeling the energon spilling from her, trying to stem the steady flow. To keep her holding on until help arrived. To keep her with him. His systems clenched as she spluttered painfully, the soft cerulean of her optics growing dim with each second that passed. The Prime cried out in anguish, cursing the mech responsible for her pain, for his pain.

First Megatron had taken Elita from him, and now he had killed her. It was senseless cruelty, all in an effort to hurt the Prime in the worst way. It was beyond evil. Beyond ruthless. Stealing the bondmate of another, violating a bond, destroying two sparks with a single blow, was an act condemned by all gods.

Optimus felt Elita fade, felt her slip through the void and into the beyond, and he let out another spark-broken cry. He brought the femme against him, cradled her frame to him as he wept. She felt so soft, so fragile to his touch. She was beautiful, a vision of perfection. To have her taken so soon left the Prime devastated. And his spark torn in two.

But he vowed, with Primus as his witness, that Megatron would not go unpunished. The Decepticon would pay with buckets of energon.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **Last, but certainly not least, we have Touch. This was by far my favourite to write. Tormenting poor Optimus has been quite an interesting, not to mention enjoyable, adventure. I hope you've enjoyed these drabbles, and thank you for reading them!  
><em>

__**Disclaimer:** 'Transformers' and all related media, merchandise and trademarks do not belong to me. All canon characters belong to their respective companies and I am not affiliated with them in any way, shape or form.__


End file.
